


your hair was long when we first met

by starkly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:45:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkly/pseuds/starkly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How short?" she asks, and Bucky only shrugs a shoulder.</p><p>"Short," he says, and Natasha glances at Steve. Steve nods, waiting for Natasha to start trimming Bucky’s hair before going back to his drawing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your hair was long when we first met

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://weinersoldier.tumblr.com/post/72158719023/natasha-giving-bucky-a-haircut-while-steve) on tumblr that basically just said “Natasha giving Bucky a haircut while Steve sketches them” and I just couldn’t resist?? There is pretty much no point to this.
> 
> Title taken from Regina Spektor's "Samson."

Natasha runs her fingers through Bucky’s damp hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. Bucky is relaxed, eyes closed, and she repeats the gesture, his long hair tangling with her fingers. Finally she picks up the comb, smoothing out the tangles with steady, even movements.

Steve opens the sketchbook in his lap, already settled against the shower door as he watches the other two. He keeps quiet as he begins sketching, the long, easy strokes of his pencil nearly identical to Natasha’s as she finishes combing out Bucky’s hair.

The scissors glint on the bathroom counter, a sharp silver that matches the spiral binding of Steve’s notebook and the smooth surface of Bucky’s arm. Natasha picks them up carefully, and Bucky finally opens his eyes, staring at their reflection in the mirror.

"How short?" she asks, and Bucky only shrugs a shoulder.

"Short," he says, and Natasha glances at Steve. Steve nods, waiting for Natasha to start trimming Bucky’s hair before going back to his drawing.

She takes it slow, her measurements methodical. The only sounds in the bathroom are the snip of the scissors in Bucky’s hair and the scratch of Steve’s pencil on paper. In the silence, thin curls of hair fall to the floor or catch in the old towel wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders.

Bucky’s hair slowly gets shorter, Natasha pausing every so often to see if Bucky will tell her to stop. He never does and she keeps cutting, until it’s a little longer than Steve’s hair had been when she and he had first met. Bucky holds up a hand, looking at himself in the mirror. Natasha and Steve watch him, not saying anything until he finally nods.

"You look nice," Steve says, setting down his pencil. "Natasha did a good job."

There’s a quirk to Natasha’s lips as she cleans Bucky up, almost a smirk but not quite. She removes the towel from his shoulders and brushes away the stray hairs with her hands, though it’s not as effective as she’d like. Bucky rubs at a lock of his newly shortened hair, twisting it between his fingers, then turns to look at Steve.

"Get anything good?"

Steve wordlessly flips the sketchbook around, offering it to them. Bucky takes it, turning the pages while Natasha stands beside him and looks. The drawings are all very sketchy, none of Steve’s usual detailed precision. But he’s captured nearly every length of Bucky’s hair that Natasha had stopped at, headshot after headshot of Bucky with his hair progressively growing shorter. Several sketches include Natasha, a warmness on her face while she works that she hadn’t realized was there.

"Still quite the artist," Bucky says, staring at a drawing of Natasha from the previous day, fresh from a fight and with blood on the bridge of her nose.

"Not everything’s changed," Steve replies quietly, not flinching when Bucky narrows his eyes at him. Natasha lays a hand on Bucky’s arm, the one that’s still flesh and blood, and Bucky’s gaze softens. He hands Steve the sketchbook, fingers lingering on the back of Steve’s hand when Steve reaches up for him.

Natasha touches the back of Bucky’s neck lightly, no longer hidden behind a curtain of dark hair. “You should shower,” she suggests, fingers dragging through the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Only if you’re offering to join me," Bucky says wrly, turning toward her. Steve looks away, a slight frown at the corners of his mouth. "You too, Steve."

Natasha meets Steve’s eyes then, and though neither of them say anything, she knows it wasn’t the lack of invite that had affected Steve. Steve’s spoken about Bucky enough in their time working together that Natasha feels that she knows him like Steve had, just two best friends trying to survive in a city that could barely hold them.

"It’s a pretty small shower, Buck," is all Steve says, the smile back on his face as he stands and closes his sketchbook.

"We’ve managed worse," Bucky replies, cocking his head and grinning faintly. Steve tucks the sketchbook under his arm, leaning forward with a look of hesitation on his face that Natasha recognizes from the first few times he’d kissed her, like there’s nothing else in the world he’d like to do more but he can’t believe he’s allowed.

Bucky doesn’t hesitate whatsoever, closing the distance between them and kissing Steve hard. Natasha runs a hand over Bucky’s back, then gently takes the sketchbook from Steve, leaving the bathroom just long enough to set it somewhere safe. She closes the door quietly behind her when she returns, and Steve and Bucky break apart at the sound, both men turning to look at her.

"I think that shower sounds like a good idea," she says, and lets herself be pulled into Steve and Bucky’s embrace.


End file.
